Something's Gotta Give
by booknerd1994
Summary: After weeks of mourning, Ginny is sick and tired of everyone being quiet in the Burrow. She's finally going to take matters into her own hands.


_**Something's Gotta Give**_

_Summary: After weeks of mourning, Ginny is sick and tired of everyone being quiet in the Burrow. She's finally going to take matters into her own hands. _

_To my baby sister,_

_If you are reading this, then I am dead… Yes, I know that sounds very melodramatic, but what else do you expect from me? You know I'm not one to fuss around with details… I like to get right to the point._

_By now you're probably wondering why you found this letter in your room… or better yet, why this letter was even written for you to read! Do not fret, my dearest sister, for I have the answer! Before we went into hiding with our bloody Aunt Muriel, George and I decided to write letters to the rest of the family, in case we each… didn't make it by the end of the war. Shocking isn't it? Who would've expected us, the pranksters, to be sentimental? But I'll tell you, between you and I, it was my idea in the first place. _

_Now, I'm guessing that it's been a few weeks now since I passed… Ha, you're probably a little boggled right now, wondering how I know this. Well, George and I enchanted the parchment to only appear if the writer was killed…and only appear after a few weeks of the kill… Pretty brilliant, isn't it? And mum always thought we were the draft ones!_

_Well, Ginny, it's time to tell you a secret, one that even George doesn't know… I enchanted this parchment so that you would be the first one to get a letter, to get my letter, because I knew, no matter how much George protested, that you lot would be pretty miserable if I died, including George himself. And that's why I wanted you to get my letter first, because you're the toughest one of us, Gin. _

_In your room, I hid the rest of the family's letters, but they will only appear once YOU believe the reader is ready…again, pretty brilliant on my part, wouldn't you say? Now, I know you're probably a little confused, and, hopefully, mad; I'd much rather you be mad than sad, Ginny, it suites you much better. _

_I know these last couple weeks have been hard, but it's time now to move on. You know, Ginny, deep down that I wouldn't want you all too weep over my death. I died for a cause I believe in! I died doing what was right…and I wouldn't have it any other way. _

_Now, I left you this task, of getting everyone off their arses, because you're the only one who can do it. Like I said earlier, Gin, you're the toughest of us lot and that's something you should be damn proud of! I want you to get everyone back on their feet, to make them all continue on with life, to make them all smile again. And I know, to the very core of my being, that you are the one to do this. _

_I want you to know that I am very sorry for leaving you lot and I won't go a day without wishing I was with you all again, but my death is something that shouldn't be mourned. I died doing what I believed in, just like the rest of you. _

_Now, my ickle-Ginnikins, go make everyone smile and snog Harry senseless (yes, you two are not as secretive as you think). Go give the family life again, because you, out of all of us, have the most to give. I love you, Ginny. Live life to the fullest for me and I hope we don't see each other for a very long time._

_Your brother, _

_Fred_

The words blurred as my hands shook the parchment. This couldn't be real… I was not looking at my brother's handwriting. This was just some sort of sick joke… it had to be. I looked at the parchment once again, tears momentarily blurring my vision, and I shook my head. This was his writing… This was F-Fred's handwriting…but how could that be?

"Ginny," Ron's gruff voice sounded outside my door, "Dinner."

A small squeak issued from my mouth as I jumped on my bed, dropping the letter onto the ground. I shook my head quickly, trying to sort out my jumbled thoughts, but all I could see was Fred's face. It was like he was actually standing before me, giving me that knowing look, like he was waiting for me to get up and do something.

"Ginny," I heard my father call out, "dinners ready!"

Trembling, I reached down to grab the letter and quickly threw it under my pillow. Hastily wiping my wet eyes, I rushed out of my room, rushing down the stairs to enter the kitchen. On the last step, I came to a sudden stop, straining my ears to hear the sounds from the kitchen, like I did every day, even though my head was still spinning from the letter.

Nothing. There was absolutely no sound coming from the kitchen… just like always.

I turned the corner and entered the crowed, but silent, kitchen, taking my seat between Percy and George. Everything was quiet, except the sound of the silverware scraping the plates; that's was the only sound that was heard in the once lively kitchen these days.

_Clink._

I gingerly took a bite of my food, trying to push the image of Fred out of my mind's eye by glancing around at the rest of my family. Starting at the head of the table, I found myself taking time to fully notice my father for the first time in weeks. He was pale, paler than the time he was stuck in St. Mungos after being attacked by Nagini. The red hair on the top of his head seemed to be thinning out by the second, leaving him closer and closer to becoming bald.

_Clink._

Moving onto Bill and his wife, Fleur, I noticed how limp and _dirty_ my handsome brother and his veela wife looked. The normally clean and proper couple were both sporting old, baggy shirts and sweats; each with their lanky hair thrown into a messy ponytail at the nape of their neck. Bill's scarred face seemed even more haunting with his bloodshot eyes and dark circles coloring the ring around his eyes. Even though the couple was holding hands, I could tell from here that there was no feeling behind it, rather, they were just putting it on for show, though no one was watching.

_Clink._

On my left and right sat Percy and George, my two brothers who, unfortunately, paid witness to Fred's death. Ironically, the two brothers, who growing up, seemed the most distance, now resembled the appearance of twins. They both sat, rather tensely, staring at the untouched food on their plates. Their hair, one straight, hung limply around his face, the other curly, hung around his ears in stringy tendrils.

_Clink._

Sitting opposite to my father, her husband, sat my mum, who, amongst all of us, was probably the poorest excuse for a person. She sat in the dirty, crinkly clothes that she had first put on two weeks ago once everyone had returned home. Her hair, normally in loose waves, hung in greasy sheets down her neck, but perhaps the most haunting feature of all was her eyes. Her brown orbs, to which mine were so similar, stared, unseeingly, out the window to her right, as if she was waiting for her deceased son to pop out and admit the whole thing had been one of his and George's jokes.

_Clink._

Down near my father and across the table sat Charlie, who, still after weeks, had not left to return to Romania. His bulky form slumped against the table as he absently shoveled food into his mouth, not really taking a moment to look at what he was feeding himself. Every once in a while, his eyes would cloud over and his jaw would tighten, almost as if he was fighting off tears. My strong brother, the one who fought with dragons on a daily basis, sat, defeated, desperately trying to hide his pain from the rest of the world.

_Clink._

Directly across from me sat the trio, Ron, Hermione, and Harry. Ron, my dear brother, sat quite similar to Percy and George, in which he slumped forward, staring at his untouched plate of food. His hair, which he typically never grew out, was beginning to curl, ever so slightly, around the ends of his ears. Hermione, sitting next to him, used her fork to push around the food on her plate, but never bringing it up to her mouth. Her hair, usually so full and bushy, hung down to the middle of her back in a straight greasy sheet, similar to that of my mother. Their eyes, though, held the truth behind each of their struggles.

And then there was Harry, the young man who was, undoubtedly, a part of this family, but probably feeling more alone then ever in his life. His hair was a messy as ever, sticking up in random directions around his head and pale, pale face. The handsome face that I had fallen completely in love with was sunken and seemed to fit that of a man who was much older than Harry's eighteen years. Behind his glasses, Harry's once bright green eyes held the pain of a man who witnessed death and wished for nothing but the same fate.

_Clink._

Where had the life gone from this family? I remember when mum used to tell us all to shut it because she could barely hear herself think, and now, here we all sat, not even making a sound with our own breathing!

Outside the window, light flared across the sky for a fraction of a second, shortly followed by a loud peal of thunder. Hermione discreetly jumped in her seat as the kitchen dishes shook with the rest of the house, but all too soon, everything fell quiet in the house once again. While the sky began to pour outside, I suppressed a groan, knowing that a couple weeks ago, we all would have laughed and poked fun at Hermione for jumping at the thunder. Now, everyone hardly seemed to notice.

_Go give the family life again, because you, out of all of us, have the most to give._

I found myself shivering as Fred's words circled around my head. Why me, I thought sarcastically, looking up at the ceiling, thinking maybe that Fred could see me now, sitting at the silent table, in this sad, sad scene. Almost as if to answer me, Fred's voice seemed to fill up my mind.

_I'd much rather you be mad than sad, Ginny, it suites you much better._

A spark seemed to ignite within me at my late brother's words, filling me with something that I hadn't felt for weeks: life. I pulled myself back to reality and for a moment I thought I had missed something, like someone had actually started talking, because there was noise, but then I realized the soft shush that I had mistaken for someone, was actually the falling rain outside the window.

Another peal of thunder shook the house, causing Hermione to jump once again in her seat. Next to her, Ron's lip quirked in the smallest way and I leaned forward, praying he would crack a smile, but just as suddenly as it appeared, his face contorted back to the expressionless mask. Then all I could hear was the soft clinking of silverware on the plates. Suddenly, it became too much for me.

"That's it," I shrieked, jumping up from my seat.

Ten heads snapped up to look at me, the youngest Weasley, as I stood at my seat, glaring at my family around the table.

"Ginny," my mother barely whispered, "what are-"

"Everyone get up," I bellowed, moving towards the back door.

"Ginny, dear," I heard my father's voice behind me. "Where are you going?"

"We," I stated, turning around, pleased to see that everyone was standing up. "Are going outside. And if you don't want bats flying out of your nose for a week, you'd better follow me."

Without another word, I stepped outside into the pouring rain. As soon as the icy water hit my skin, I knew I would be soaked within seconds. My hair plastered itself to my face and my shirt became a second skin, but at that moment I couldn't bring myself to care. I was relishing in the feeling of the rain on my skin too much, remembering how much I had loved the rain when I was growing up.

"Gin," George's quiet voice brought me out of my temporary happiness. "It's raining."

I turned around and was pleased, momentarily, to see that everyone had followed me outside. There they all stood, in a line, facing me, heads and shoulders hunkered over, as if they could block some of the rain that was drenching their bodies.

"Does it look like I care?" I snapped, "This is probably the closest any of you have come to a shower in weeks!"

"Ginevra," my mother's tone was one of shock and anger… for a moment she sounded like her old, scolding self, and it made me smile briefly.

Now that I had them all outside, standing with me in the pouring rain, I had no idea what I was going to do next. I looked up, my eyes stopping at George, who, despite is dull eyes, was looking at me curiously. Suddenly, the scene changed around me, and I saw a younger version of myself, dancing in the pouring rain with a laughing Fred. Inspiration sparked within me.

"I remember when I was little," I said over the falling rain, spinning around on the wet grass. "How much I loved the rain. I thought it had special properties, you see. I thought it could wipe away all your fears…and when I really felt down, I would come out here to cry, because in the rain, no one can tell whether you're crying.

"That was my secret for the longest time…but one day, somebody figured me out. It was one night during the summer before my second year at Hogwarts and, like every night, I snuck outside to stand in the rain. I hoped it would wipe away the nightmares that were constantly with me while I slept."

I stopped for a moment to look up. Everyone was staring at me, captured by my story, and I found I couldn't stop talking.

"I was standing out here one night, crying to myself, when someone came out behind me and threw a jacket over me. Knowing me, I was instantly mad at Fred for disrupting my time in the rain. He just laughed at me, saying '_Good, I'd rather see you mad, Gin-Gin. Don't be sad.' _

"I ended up telling him why I snuck out at night. He didn't say anything; he just pulled me up off the ground and started dancing with me, right here, in the middle of the yard, with it still pouring buckets.

"From that night on, I never went a night sitting alone in the rain, because Fred always found me. And he made me laugh. He's one of the biggest reasons why I made it through that summer after the Chamber incident… that's my favorite memory of him…"

I stopped speaking, my mind wandering to several years ago, where I was standing in the same spot, holding onto my brother's hands as we spun on the spot. Once again, one of my brothers brought me back to reality.

"Why are you telling us this," Bill said, rather gruffly.

"Because," and it was almost as if I was realizing Fred's lesson for myself, right in that moment, "because… Fred taught me that the rain was more than something to hide behind… it was something to enjoy. And it's time now for you lot to stop hiding."

"So," Charlie said slowly, "you want us to enjoy this…the cold rain?"

"Yes," I yelled, stomping closer to my family. "Yes, I want you to enjoy the bloody rain, because you _can. _There are so many people that because of the war can't enjoy something as simple as the _rain_… and look at you lot! All you want to do is go back inside so you can wallow in your sorrows. Do you really think that's what they would've wanted? What Remus and Tonks would have wanted? Do you really think Fred would want you all to cry over his death?"

Again, I stopped, noticing that I was breathing rather heavily, my chest heaving under my wet clothes. I was pleased to see that some of my family seemed to be listening to my words, that they were putting out their hands, watching the water create puddles in their palms. But my eyes sought out George, who was glaring at me.

"How do you know what Fred would have wanted," George said coldly.

I took a moment to think, planning my answer. While I thought, I found myself moving towards George, reaching out my hands to grab onto his, pulling him away from the line of people.

"Because," I whispered for only him to hear. "He's the one who taught me to dance in the rain, not to cry."

George sucked in a harsh breath as I pulled him in further from the group and started to sway us back and forth. His body stayed rigid for a moment, but as I looked up into his eyes, I saw weeks and weeks of unshed tears piling up. I moved forward, wrapping my arms around his waist, resting my head on his chest, still swaying us to the silent music in my head. George gingerly wrapped his arms around my shoulder, a shudder gently shaking his body. Seeing that I was making progress, I pulled away from George, grabbing his hands and spinning around his body, throwing him a smile.

"You know you're a really crummy dancer," George chuckled weakly.

Then I saw something that seemed to warm me from the inside out. George smiled. With everything looking brighter, I looked over George's shoulder to see my family wearing watery smiles. Mum and dad were wrapped in each other's arms, swaying together, and Bill had his arms wrapped around his wife's small waist from behind, whispering quietly in her ear, making her smile. Charlie had his hand clapped on Percy's small shoulder, each looking up at the sky with closed eyes, while Ron wrapped an arm around a slightly blubbering Hermione.

I did a double take, noticing for the first time that Harry was not standing next to Hermione, but was slowly trudging back to the house. Smiling shyly up at George, I pulled my hands away and raced over to Harry, slipping a little on the wet grass. I took a moment to smile as chuckles sounded behind me, but I thought no more of my family as I reached Harry, grabbing his shoulders and turning him around to face me.

_Go snog Harry senseless,_ Fred seemed to say, winking.

"And you," I breathed, reaching up to cup Harry's cheeks with my hands, "where do you think you're going?"

"Inside," Harry said, not meeting my eyes.

"Ah, but if I am not mistaken," I smiled, moving closer to Harry, until our bodies were pressed together. "I believe you owe me a dance, Mr. Potter."

Then we were kissing. I'm still not sure who started it; whether he leaned in first, or me, but it didn't matter at that moment, because all I could feel, hear, and think was _Harry. _My arms moved from his cheeks to wrap around his neck, burying them in his wet, black hair. As his arms wrapped themselves around my waist, pulling me closer to his soaked body, I vaguely heard the whistles and catcalls issuing from my brother's lips, somewhere behind us. Smiling against Harry's mouth, I knew that we were all going to be okay, and that Fred, wherever he was, was smiling down at me, proud of his baby sister.

A few hours later, after much playing, rousing, and the occasional dance, we made our way back into the house so we could all dry off. Once everyone was dry and in their pajamas, we all made our way to our respective rooms. Harry's hand was wrapped securely around mine as we followed Ron and Hermione up the steps. Giving Harry a quick kiss, I pushed open my door, shutting it quietly as everyone moved past my door to get up to the next floors. I leaned back against the door, smiling to myself for the progress I had made, when I stopped, noticing a small pile on the middle of my bed.

Confused, I stepped forward, noticing that the pile was actually several folded pieces of parchment. Ten pieces, to be exact, each in scripted in Fred's unmistakable scrawl with the name of a member of the family. Laughing, despite myself, I gathered up the letters, putting them on my night table, vowing that I would give them out to each person in the morning.

_It was time_, I thought to myself as I got comfortable under my comforter. _It was time for us to move on… and I knew everyone was ready… it was time for us to live again._


End file.
